Let's Conquer the World
by Lythenia
Summary: Things did not go as planed when the Light gathered to chase the Dark away. Under the might of the Dark Lord and his followers, they fell. Now, the few that are left find themselves imprisoned by none other than Lord Voldemort himself, with Harry among them. Prequel to Let's Rule the World Together.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Let's Conquer the World

**Summary:** Things did not go as planned when the Light gathered to chase the Dark away. Under the might of the Dark Lord and his followers, they fell. Now, the few that are left find themselves imprisoned by none other than Lord Voldemort himself, with Harry among them. Prequel to Let's Rule the World Together.

**Warnings:** Will eventually be slash of the HP/LV(TR) variety. For this chapter: mild violence, mention of death, torture. (Rate M just to be on the safe side, it's probably more like a T)

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**A/N:** To clarify: This is a prequel to Let's Rule the World Together. It has the same plot line, but its focus is the transition from hate and love between our two favourite wizards. In other words, it's for everyone who wanted more angst and character development. Those of you who were content with Let's Rule the World Together might find this a bit boring.

**Edit (10/07/2012): Beated by BlueRubyBeat!**

~0~

Chapter 1: Countdown to Midnight

What should have been my seventh year at Hogwarts ended up being a mad scramble for victory. With Ron and Hermione by my side, I tried to gather and destroy the Horcrux's.

We – I – failed.

The only one we managed to find was the Locket, and that took much too long. By the time we found the Sword of Gryffindor and managed to destroy the cursed Locket, it was too late. Most of Britain had fallen, the Ministry was completely infiltrated by the Dark, and Lord Voldemort's pet Death Munchers where hot on our heels.

Our friends back at school did what they could to chase away the Death Eaters that were taking over, to buy us more time, but there was only so much they could do. And so we returned, having been unable to complete the task Dumbledore set for us.

All those willing and capable to fight gathered at Hogwarts for our final stand. We prepared the castle for war, reinforced the wards and shields, and waited. It didn't take long for Lord Voldemort to arrive with all his troops, vastly outnumbering our own.

That's when he gave us an ultimatum: If I gave myself up before midnight, everyone else in the castle would be left alone.

I wanted to go, to preserve as much life as possible, but my year spent in the _real_ world – away from the bubble wrap Dumbledore kept me in – had honed my Slytherin side.

To explain myself, spending my childhood with the Dursley's made me crave any type of positive attention I could get. As the Boy-Who-Lived, that was as a brash Gryffindor with a flair for danger and a hero complex a mile long. The Wizarding World wanted a saviour, and so I gave them one.

But growing up with the Dursley's also means that I'm extremely cautious. Someone like Voldemort doesn't simply let his enemies go like that. Sure, he might let the teachers go free with only minimal pain, but my friends? All the muggleborns? They wouldn't get away so easily.

My Slytherin side told me to think rationally, to assess the situation, to find a way to _win_.

My Gryffindor side told me to do whatever necessary to save them, even at the price of my own life.

After a year of running rampant, it didn't take long for my Slytherin side to overpower the Gryffindor side.

So it was really only a matter of choosing whichever option had the biggest chance of success, and if at all possible, the least loss of life.

And so we fought.

And so we lost.

~0~

I was on my knees in front of Lord Voldemort, held there forcibly by his magic with Death Eaters surrounding us. A little further away, the survivors of the Light side where huddled together, held at wand point, with Death Eaters surrounding them. Behind us, lay the smouldering wreckage of what many of us called Home.

Of the hundreds that had gathered to fight, less than thirty remained. Among them, even fewer of those that I considered friends.

Hermione had been one of the first casualties, an easy target for the Death Eaters. She had been too busy trying to protect me to notice them closing in on her.

Ron was next. Hermione's death shook him so much that he just didn't care anymore. Any Death Eaters he saw, he killed. He took down a lot of them, but they eventually overwhelmed him.

Fred, Lupin, Tonks, and so many others were lost. But that doesn't really seem to matter anymore. Soon enough, we'll all be joining them in the afterlife. Or so I hope. I'm even looking forward to it a bit. Sirius would be there, and my parents. But Voldemort has never been merciful, least of all to me.

He just stands there for a bit, looking down at me.

"Do you see now, Potter, how easy it was for me to destroy your pathetic little resistance?" His words are met with chortles from the Death Eaters and anger from a few of the survivors. Those who have lost the least. I just feel numb.

I don't answer, and that seems to piss him off. Good. The war may be lost, the Light might be vanquished, but that doesn't mean I need to let him get to me. He's already stolen _everything_ from me. Why should I give him anymore?

I think he can read my decision in my eyes, because the next thing he does is to raise his wand in my direction and cast the Cruciatus Curse at me. And bloody hell does it hurt. There aren't a lot of people who can cast _crucio_ like Lord Voldemort. Bellatrix is a close second, but like she told me, you have to _mean_ it. All Voldemort has left is his hate and rage, and most of it is directed at me. It isn't hard for him to make me _scream_.

When he finally lifts it after what feels like an eternity, I'm left shaking on the ground. He releases the spells sometime during the torture, wanting to see me thrash against the unforgiving floor.

The glee on his snake like face, the sneers of the Death Eaters and the concern of what little few of my friends remain greet me when I can finally see properly. It's all too much. And before I know it, I'm _laughing_. And in that moment, I realize that I just don't care anymore. I know I should, there are still those who depend on me, those few survivors that still need their saviour, but I _can't_. It's just too damn much.

A little voice at the back of my head is telling me to _stop_, that as soon as the world stops spinning, I'll regret it, but it's too late for that. The damage is done. I can see it clearly written on his face. He doesn't even wait until I'm done with my little meltdown to turn his wand on the huddled group of sheep, never turning away from me. His red eyes say it all, so when screams starts ripping out of the throats of several of the people there, I'm expecting it. I'm still laughing, unable to stop, but now I'm crying too.

That's when I pass out.

~0~

**A/N:** Chapters are probably going to be really short, all at about 1,000 words, but updates should be regular and fairly fast. Depending on how much free time I get maybe once every fortnight or something.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Let's Conquer the World

**Summary:** Things did not go as planned when the Light gathered to chase the Dark away. Under the might of the Dark Lord and his followers, they fell. Now, the few that are left find themselves imprisoned by none other than Lord Voldemort himself, with Harry among them.

**Warnings:** Will eventually be slash of the HP/LV(TR) variety. For this chapter: violence, mention of death, torture, semi-insane Harry.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**A/N:** So here's chapter 2. Enjoy.

**Edit (10/07/1012): Betaed by the glorious BlueRubyBeat!**

~0~

Chapter 2: Don't go Down Without a Fight

When I come to, I'm in a small cell with the others. My head is cradled in Luna's lap while she plays with my hair. She's humming something, and I feel like crying again. But now I'm awake and relatively sane, and I can't afford the _weakness_ anymore. I can hear someone screaming, but it seems to be from very far away, like a dream.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Luna's voice still has that airy quality to it, even though someone we know is being tortured from not-so far away and even though everyone else is dead.

I envy her. Her calmness, the fact that she doesn't have the world's expectation resting on her shoulders. That she hasn't _failed_.

I don't answer her, but she knows. Luna always knows.

She hums a little louder now, and I close my eyes again, letting it lull me into a (false) sense of security. My mind still needs time to fix itself. This might be my only opportunity do to so for a while, so I take it, regardless of the fact that I can feel the angry gazes of so many of the other prisoners. I'm content because I also saw Neville and Shacklebolt and even Bill Weasley who's lost even more than me today sitting close by while Luna keeps the angry mutterings of my allies away with her song.

~0~

Things only get worse from that moment on. Within our huddled mass of sullied bodies, people unload all there problems on me. They blame me for losing the war. They yell that I'm the one who made the decision to fight, and that I chose _wrong_. They're right of course, so I never say anything back. Let them take what little comfort they can.

With the end of the war, the Death Eaters get bored very fast. We can hear our guards grumble about it. Sometimes, they talk about Rebels. From the sound of it, it's everyone who lost someone important during the Battle of Hogwarts and what little remains of the muggleborns. Needless to say, there aren't very many of them. Most of the time, entire families were obliterated, and most of the muggleborns were fighting with us. All it means, really, is that no one will be coming for us.

~0~

I have no clue how long we've been here, but Luna say it's been about a month. There are no windows in our cell, no way to accurately tell time. Regardless, our numbers are dwindling. Fast. From the forty-three who wereoriginally captured, only twenty-one remain.

It starts off slow, only maybe one person every few meals, but now it's speeding up. If you were wondering, we get fed some form of sludgy goop every couple of hours. I'm assuming that means we get food – if you can call it that – three times a day. They don't give us enough to gather our strength, but there's always enough to go around as unappealing as it is. Things would be boring if we all starve to death.

Anyways, people are taken kicking and screaming from the cell one by one. Sometimes they come back, and sometimes they don't.

If they come back, they're badly cut up, bloodied and terrified. The lucky ones get away with just a few rounds of the Cruciatus Curse.

The first few times they never came back, people would cry and wail and beg and scream. They would yell at the Death Eater guards, and ask what they did with them. The guards only ever laughed. Well, that's not entirely true. Sometimes, they'd tell us _exactly_ what happened. A few people would throw up, and eventually they stopped asking. Didn't stop the guards from talking though.

According to the guards, most of the bored Death Eaters have started a little game. The rules are, as I understand, extremely simple. Try to find the way to cause maximum pain in the victim, and do something that will get a reaction from the rest of the prisoners.

That's how we learned what happened to Shacklebolt. They brought his body to our cell with the meal. His clothes had been removed, so we could see absolutely everything they had done to him. The skin of his arms and legs was completely peeled off, leaving the muscles and nerves exposed. His head had been completely striped of flesh and muscle, leaving the pink-tinged skull in plain sight. His brain and eyes were still there though. His chest was somehow more gruesome. Someone had used a spell to make his ribs bend backwards, piercing the skin and showing his internal organs off like some sort of morbid art exposition.

The Death Eater who did that was definitely the winner. They left the body there for a few days, for maximum effect.

The cell reeked of vomit for days.

~0~

No matter what they do to the other prisoners, I'm always left alone. I've heard a few of the guards grumble about it. Apparently, Voldemort ordered them not to touch me.

I find myself wondering what he's playing at, but it's obvious, really. I just don't want to see it.

He's trying to break me. And it's almost working. He knows me, the same way I know him. He knows I don't care about getting tortured, that I don't care if he kills me, hell that I'll _appreciate_ it, but my _friends_? He knows I won't abandon them, that seeing them in pain is having more of an effect on me than a dozen _crucios_.

I try not to let it bother me. I ignore the screams, the glares. I ignore the way people try to get a rise out of me. I ignore the way they try to get my friends to turn on me.

But I can't ignore it when the Death Eater takes Bill away. I scream and I rage and I try to stop them. They have wards all around the cell to prevent us from using our magic, but I don't need magic to _hurt_ them. It takes another three to subdue me, other than the two dragging Bill away. But I'm not going to let them get away with that. They've done enough.

So I tear and I pull at their minds. I can't do as much damage as I'd like to because of the wards, but I'm angry and demented enough that I just don't care. It's almost accidental magic really, because I shouldn't be able to do any of this. I can see it on their faces. But I just don't care. I want to make them suffer. So I will.

They _scream_ for me. Scream as though I were their Lord, holding them under the Cruciatus Curse for the smallest mistake. And then I can hear the laughing. It's him. He's in my head, and he's _enjoying_ this. Enjoying my anger, rage and despair, enjoying the pleasure I'm getting from torturing his followers. And I just can't bring myself to care.

They still take him away though. They leave the twitching bodies of the three Death Munchers I've incapacitated behind, and I can't stop. They've taken one of my friends, so I'm going to take it out on these three. I tear their minds to shambles, until there's nothing but bodies left behind.

Only then do I look up. Everyone else in the cell is huddled as close to the walls as possible, as far away from _me_ as possible. I can see the fear and the revulsion clearly in their eyes. I feel like laughing now, because I just don't _care_.

Instead, I just go to a dark corner and sit there with my arms wrapped around my head. He's still chortling away in my head, but I try to ignore him.

It takes a long time for my friends to approach me, and even then, Luna is the only one who actually dares to touch me. And so when the Death Eaters come back for the next victim, they find me sitting in the corner, holding hands with the pretty blond girl with the vacant expression and the sad smile.

~0~

A/N: Reviews make writers happy, and happy writers write more.

On another note, I found this chapter a little mhe, so I'll probably comeback to it later. I should have probably waited but I felt like posting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Let's Conquer the World

**Summary:** Things did not go as planned when the Light gathered to chase the Dark away. Under the might of the Dark Lord and his followers, they fell. Now, the few that are left find themselves imprisoned by none other than Lord Voldemort himself, with Harry among them.

**Warnings:** Will eventually be slash of the HP/LV(TR) variety. For this chapter: violence, death, torture, semi-insane Harry.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**A/N: **Don't kill me for the shortness and fillerness of this chapter please.

**Edit (10/07/2012): **Betaed by BlueRubyBeat!

~0~

Chapter 3: Down Hill

Since Shacklebolt, none of my friends have been harmed, save for the occasional _crucio _through the bars of our cell. With nothing better to do, I've spent the past several days figuring out why.

At first, I thought the Death Eaters were just too afraid of ending up like their companions to try. It seemed plausible, since Voldemort never ordered them to do so anyways.

That theory ends up in the drain when I find myself the unwilling witness of a Death Muncher torture session. Voldemort was displeased by their cowardice and demanded that they go back to tormenting us. Those exact words.

Voldemort was in such a foul mood that I had a headache for days. Honestly, his anger made mine look like a teenage girl's hissy fit, foot stomping included.

My other theory is that Voldemort was so pleased with my little outburst, so pleased that he actually made me _angry_, that he decided to reward me by leaving them alone. That's the better outcome. My current theory, the more likely one, is that he's letting me rely on them more and more as our numbers dwindle so that when he finally kills them, it'll hurt all the more.

I'm hoping it's not that one. And who knows. Maybe Voldemort's victory is making him more prone to lenience.

I give up on that last shred of hope when he decides that it's my turn to get tortured. And of course, he has to do it personally.

~0~

He has two of his masked monkeys incapacitate me and drag me from the cell. They dump me in a white, sterile looking room and leave when there Lord and Master wordlessly gestures towards the open door.

It closes with the dull clank of heavy metal.

A shiver runs up my spine as I come to the realization that for the first time, I am well and truly alone with Voldemort. This time, there won't be anyone to save me at the last second, to watch over my body as he takes over my mind, or even to die for me. For the first time since he brought us here, I feel something other than resignation and rage. For the first time in a long time, I'm actually _afraid_.

Don't get me wrong; I was terrified every time I confronted him, but that fear was never really for myself. It was for the people who would get hurt fighting with me, and for those who would die for me. Most of them did, so that fear was hardly unfounded.

My body is tense and adrenaline is coursing through my veins, a flight or fight response. Unfortunately, both these options are impossible. There's nowhere to run to in this small room, and my magic has been completely sealed off by the wards I can only just barely feel.

I'm too distracted to dodge the first crucio he sends my way. Of course he's keyed into the wards. The great and mighty Voldemort would never sully his hands by torturing someone the muggle way. Regardless, his crucio is mild compared to what he normally uses. A warning, perhaps?

Voldemort doesn't like being ignored, especially not by me.

He doesn't say anything while he tortures me, content to listen to my screams. I try not to, at first. I bite my lip bloody trying to contain the screams, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing my pain, but I give in soon enough. It's better (easier) to just give in.

He smiles at me, nothing more than a cold smirk really, before opening the door. I'm a little confused at first, but then they drag Bill in.

I'm on my feet before I can properly process what's happening but Voldemort uses a full body binding curse on me, making it impossible to do anything.

He looks at me again, a cold glare full of triumph, before raising his wand against Bill.

They drag me out to the sound of his screams. And even after the door closes, I can still see the blood flying as Voldemort uses a severing curse right off the bat.

~0~

They bring me back to the cell and leave me there with a few parting blows. I don't even bother screaming at them, only having the energy to drag my battered body into a corner and curl up into a defensive ball.

Once again, Luna is the only one who dares to get close to me. I don't stop her.

Before long, my head is cradled in her lap while a few silent tears run down my cheeks.

Voldemort and his Death Eaters come back what feels like an eternity and no time later. They're dragging three bodies behind them. I don't want to look, because looking makes it _real_.

But of course, even this little mercy is denied as one of the masked thugs roughly grabs me by the hair and yanks me into a kneeling position before them. I'm still too weak to do anything about it and they know it.

I force myself to look at the bodies to get it over with as soon as possible.

The first two corpses are that of a man and woman. Though I never spoke to them, least of all here, we fought together. The sight of their mangled bodies _hurts._ Every visible part of their bodies is marred with lacerations and welts, as if they were whipped to death.

But as much as the sight of these dead soldiers angers me, it's nothing compared to when I see Bill.

Other than his head, his body is nothing more than a piece of charred meat. His mouth is frozen in a grotesque mask of pain, and the sight, along with the smell, make me feel like throwing up.

I can do nothing else other than stare at his remains, numb. The sound of Voldemort's cruel laughter makes my already fragile sanity splinter, and I charge him with a yell. He's startled, because I actually get a hit in before his Death Eaters force me away.

The satisfying sound his skull makes as it hits the floor is worth the pain that follows.

~0~

A/N: Just a heads up, I'm starting university in less than a week! I've therefore decided to go on a temporary hiatus until I get back into the swing of things. Don't freak out people, it'll only be for two weeks or so. Not to mention that I'll most likely still be writing, just not posting. And that means fast updates when I get back. So see you soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Let's Conquer the World

**Summary:** Things did not go as planned when the Light gathered to chase the Dark away. Under the might of the Dark Lord and his followers, they fell. Now, the few that are left find themselves imprisoned by none other than Lord Voldemort himself, with Harry among them.

**Warnings:** Will eventually be slash of the HP/LV(TR) variety. For this chapter: violence, death, torture, semi-insane Harry.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**A/N: **I GOT A BETA! Enjoy the corrected wonder!

~0~

Chapter 4:

I can feel Voldemort rage at the injury I caused for days. The pain in my head gets so intense that I can't even move. Luckily, he calms down soon enough.

I've barely had time to appreciate the blissful lack of pain before they're on me. A handful of Death Eaters subdue me and with a startling blow to the head, knocking me unconscious.

I wake up in a small cell, very much alone. It doesn't last very long. In fact, I barely have the time to groan and bend my aching body into the semblance of a sitting position before the door creaks open. And in walks Voldemort.

I squint a little, blinded by the light. His skull looks fine, if a little pink. It must be recently healed. I can't keep the grin off my face, which he clearly notices, if the scowl is any indication.

To be honest, I'm surprised he hasn't cursed me yet.

That's when he smirks at me, and I know he must have something horrible planned in retaliation.

He doesn't say anything, only stares at me in silence. I don't want to give into this new mind game of his, but after a while the doubts start taking over my mind and I can't help it. I need to know why he's here before I go insane, so I ask. And it begins when he answers.

Voldemort gleefully explains that this dark cell will be mine for a while. That's all he says, before walking out with a low chuckle.

I'm confused at first, wondering how this qualifies as torture, when it dawns on me.

The thing I fear the most is solitude, and that's exactly what he's given me. From here, I have no way of knowing how the others are doing, no way of even attempting to defend them, and no one to defend _me_. I'm all alone at the mercy of Voldemort.

I try to reassure myself that it's not that bad, that it's like the Dursely's but with more pain and that I can take it. But I've never been particularly good at lying to myself.

~0~

It doesn't take long for me to realize how wrong I am. This is so much worse.

The solitude worms its way beneath my skin before long, and I just can't take it anymore. I retreat into my mind, confine myself to the smallest and quietest place my mind can come up with.

Even that doesn't help much.

Not that it matters, of course, since as soon as Voldemort realizes what I'm doing – and it's almost instantly, seeing as I can feel him just on the edge of my mind, listening in – he drags me out. But he doesn't just force me out of my head and into the cruel and void cell. Oh no. That would be much too kind.

Instead, he drags me straight into _his_ mind. And what I see there is so much worse than the pain the transfer causes me.

We're in his throne room, surrounded by the grim ranks of his followers. They're all unmasked and stone faced – some are shaking, no doubt from the crucio – but most are enjoying the show. Because my friends and fellow survivors – all of them – are bound at his feet, lying in pools of their own blood.

And Luna – kind, sweet Luna who sees too much – is the one his (our) wand is pointed at now. She's still so brave though, defying her captor through the pain by refusing to scream.

I'm so very proud of her, of my little soldier that hasn't stopped fighting. I hide my grim satisfaction from him, not giving him an excuse to make things worse for her. I only get away with it because he's refusing to acknowledge me, simply making me watch. It's almost kind of him, really, to not be goading me with this. It gives me the creeps. No doubt, he wants to make sure that I'm not distracted.

He's good at what he does – great even – at finding what makes us tic and using it against us. He uses my loneliness and my dependence, and now he makes me watch powerless as he (we) torture my friends. And all to break me.

It's amazing really, that even with all that's happening, he can still make me feel guilty. Guilt is such a powerful emotion, nothing more, really, than a way to torture yourself. Not that I need to, not with him. Though I suppose, knowing him, that he's fully aware of what he makes me feel.

~0~

I'm not sure how much time I spend there, in his head watching and being the one to torture my friends. He eventually shoves me out of his head and back to the bleakness of my cell. Surprisingly, he still hasn't said anything or gloated. The silence is blissful.

A few days later (or what passes as days), the monotony of the lonely cell is slowly driving me mad. The thought of how everyone is doing plagues me, and I'm eventually desperate to try and infiltrate Voldemort's mind.

Needless to say, it ends in failure. He simply gives me the mental equivalent of a blow to the head and a kick before slamming the doors in my face. I'm left reeling and nauseous for hours. I don't try again.

By the time they come for me, I'm past the point of being able to tell who's who, but I still recognize the hissing sound of Voldemort's voice. "Put him with the others," is all he says, before I feel rough hands grab hold of my arms.

They drag me back to the cell where everyone else is being kept and for a moment I'm filled with _gratitude_. It doesn't take long for it to be replaced by unease, though as I wonder what kind of torture he has planned now. I can smell blood. My unease turns to horror when I see what's waiting for me.

I can do nothing but scream wordlessly as Voldemort laughs in the background. Before me are the mangled bodies of three nameless survivors. Their bodies are so deformed by torture that I can barely see the remaining shapes of human limbs. But the Death Eaters who did this left their faces alone. And one of them is very clearly Neville.

Absently, I think to myself that they're starting to have a thing for threes.

That's when I pass out. Again, might I add.

~0~

**A/N:** So, good news, bad news, and not-so-good-for-you news.

First, the bad news. I have no idea what to do after this.

The good news: I've written several chapters a little further ahead, so if it takes too long for me to come up with something, I'll simply transition into a time skip.

Finally, the not-so-good-for-you news (otherwise known as shameless self-advertising): I've started few crossovers, which you can read in the meantime (if you haven't already). :D


	5. AN

So. Several people have asked me why I haven't updated in ages. (Consider this a collective answer, since there are – surprisingly – a lot of you.) Well, I managed to catch pneumonia at the end of Christmas break and spent a little over two weeks in the hospital. And since those 2+ weeks involved missing university, I had a lot of catching up to do, which damn near sent me back to the hospital what with living off of coffee and little to no sleep. I'm completely fine now, (and mostly not failing) but I quite honestly have no motivation/time to write. That DOES NOT mean that I'm abandoning my fics, but I just can't right now. Everything I've written just sort of dies halfway through. Sorry guys. So really, I doubt you'll be seeing much of me until May (at least) since that's the end of term. Again, I am NOT abandoning my fics, I just can't write anything semi decent at the moment.

-Lythenia


End file.
